


In-Flight Entertainment

by slash-em-up (writeonrice)



Category: Laid to Rest (2009)
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Light Voyeurism, Oral, Smut, Teasing, flying is a nightmare but Jesse makes it a bit better, layover in an airport, lots of smut, murders briefly mentioned, reader is literally wined and dined, the sass on this guy....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeonrice/pseuds/slash-em-up
Summary: You hate flying. Absolutely hate it. So accidentally stealing someone else's luggage seems pretty par for the course. If only you knew what would come of it.
Relationships: Jesse Cromeans/Reader, chromeskull/reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	In-Flight Entertainment

You were not ashamed to say that you hated airports. Absolutely hated them. The bustle, the smell, the overpriced coffee… There was nothing about them that inspired less then complete loathing in you. So when your boss gave you a heads-up that you’d be traveling to LA for a company meeting, you could only groan internally.

Nothing ever seemed to go right when you flew - a belief further cemented by the unexpected snowstorm that had caused your current situation: A ten-hour layover in Denver.

You were going to be so late for your meeting.

Your carry-on seemed to weigh a ton as you lugged it off the plane, cursing yourself for not fixing the loose wheel before you left as it swerved and pulled your case back and forth behind you.

Sighing heavily, you adjusted the barley-hull pillow wrapped loosely around your neck so it wasn’t pulling on your hair quite as uncomfortably, and searched for the sign to direct you towards your next gate.

On the other side of the airport. Great. At least you didn’t have to worry about being late for take-off.

Passing through the airport, you couldn’t help but glance around at the multitude of shops and small restaurants that peppered the space. It almost looked like a mall, if you discounted the weary look your fellow travelers all seemed to be sporting and the cases trailing behind them like colorful dogs.

You’d have to stop somewhere to eat. The small package of pretzels and soda you’d consumed on your first flight had done little to tide you over, and now you were feeling more than a little peckish. And thirsty. And stressed. You’d kill a man for a decent Old Fashioned.

Arriving at your gate, you plopped down onto one of the barely padded seats with a sigh. Nine hours and twenty-three minutes until takeoff. A family of six sat next to you, immediately starting in on a very loud and expressive argument. It was definitely time to go find that airport bar - but first, you needed a quick refresh in the ladies room.

Dropping your carry-on with the rest of the luggage you trotted across the large hallway, having extricated your makeup bag from your case before leaving it with the desk-steward. There were a pair of eye-masks in there calling your name.

* * *

It was insane how enjoyable leaning up against a hard wall with your eyes closed could be after five hours cramped in Coach. You stretched up and down on the balls of your feet as your muscles slowly relaxed, leaving you feeling a bit better than when you’d arrived. Now you just needed food.

That was the only thing on your mind as you shuffled back to the desk and snagged your case from the luggage corral.

Even your case felt lighter. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a horrible layover after all.

“Excuse me Ma’am. I’m going to have to ask you to come with us.”

Aaaannnddd you’d spoken too soon.

You spun quickly, taking in the very large, very serious looking men in suits standing shoulder to shoulder behind you.

“…Me? Me, Ma’am?”

The suit-twins eyes narrowed.

“Yes, you Ma’am. Don’t try to run, we’ve already got security on alert.”

You gaped in shock.

“Why would I try to run? I haven’t done anything!”

One of the men sneered as the other looked at you like you were an idiot.

“So that’s your bag, is it Ma’am?”

You blinked.

“Uh, yeah it’s my…”

Your voice trailed off as you took a closer look at the bag you were holding.

Sharp corners, no scratched metallic paint, a gleaming ‘RIMOWA’ screeching up at you from the side…

Well that explained the wheel…

The silver hard-sided case was definitely not yours.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I must have grabbed this one by mistake. I’ll take it back, I’m so -”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple ma’am. You’ll still need to come with us.”

* * *

You were getting the distinct feeling that you were fucked. Or, were about to be.

What the hell was in that suitcase?

The suited men had ushered you quickly to a side-elevator, punching a code into a keypad before pushing a button labeled ‘P’.

They’d yanked the case from you the first moment you were out of public view and now seemed intently focused on making sure you stayed still and quiet.

Even minutely adjusting the pillow still draped across your shoulders had made them both twitch like they were expecting a fight.

The elevator ding sounded ominous as you were quickly led down a gleaming, white hall - each side covered from floor to ceiling in magnificently large windows, offering a spectacular view of the departing planes and the snow-covered Rockies far behind.

The only break in-between were what looked like small sitting rooms. It dawned on you that these must be the VIP lounges. Like, the VIP-est of the VIPs. Shit, who’s luggage had you stolen, Lady Gaga’s??

You were brought to an abrupt stop at one of the closed doors, pausing outside as one suited man knocked quietly, entering after some unknown signal, bag in-tow; as the second man stayed outside - never removing his eyes from you.

“I can apologize in person if that’s what you’re after. I’m a big girl, I can own up to having grabbed the wrong bag - I just think the whole secret service thing is a little over the top…”

The guard didn’t blink.

Ok, this was getting ridiculous.

“I’m SORRY MR. OBAMA, I DIDN’T MEAN TO STEAL YOUR CASE!”

Your arm was grasped firmly as the suit dragged you a little closer to the door.

“BEYONCE? I PROMISE I WON’T DO IT AGAIN!”

The grasp on your arm turned into a solid shake, nearly knocking you against the wall.

“Shut up!” the guard hissed.

You sneered up at him.

“COME ON SNOOP DOGG, I THOUGHT YOU’D BE COOLER THAN THIS!”

The door opened, allowing the other guard to exit with a look at you like you’d just signed your own death certificate.

“He wants to see her.”

“He, who?!”

The man grasping your arm pulled you quickly, spinning you into the room and closing the door firmly behind you.

You blinked, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden dim lighting of the small room; taking in the plush modern couches lining the walls, the two-person dining table, the open pair of suitcases on the glass coffee-table, and then finally, to the man sitting casually behind the luggage, inspecting a pair of underwear from your case.

“Ah… Pitbull. You were going to be my next guess…”

A single brown eye flicked up to meet yours, followed by a loud snort and a half-smirk.

His head tilted as he examined you, and you did the same.

Gaze wandering from his black dress shoes, up his long black-clad legs, over his broad torso - dress shirt uncuffed and sleeves rolled up to expose fully tattooed forearms - then finally to his face. You weren’t an expert by any means; but even to you it was pretty clear he’d undergone some extensive reconstructive surgery at some point. His entire face, all the way up to his bald head looked… off… The black leather eyepatch was also a little bit of a give-away.

He allowed you a few more moments to take him in before reaching down and pulling a phone out of his pocket.

You jumped slightly as an electronic voice sounded through the room.

_“I’ll have to address security with the airport. You’re either an exceptional thief, or they really suck at their jobs.”_

Now it was your turn to snort.

“Believe me, of the two, they’re definitely more likely to just suck at their jobs.”

His gaze never left you as he reached down and plucked out the romance novel you’d stuffed into your bag for the flight, waving it teasingly.

_“I almost believe you.”_ He typed.

You looked down, starting to feel embarrassed.

“Look, I’m really sorry for this mix-up. I swear I didn’t know it was your bag.”

Without commenting, the man rose from his seat.

_Holy shit, he was tall._

He walked slowly, like he had all the time in the world and knew you weren’t going anywhere.

He stopped as he reached the small dining table, leaning down to open a mini-bar placed inconspicuously against the wall and grasp two small bottles of alcohol.

He shook them in your direction and raised his visible brow in question.

“God, yes.”

He snorted again and made short work of pouring the libation into a set of non-descript glasses; offering you one before motioning for you to take a seat.

You relaxed back into the pale leather, pausing for a moment to quickly (and hopefully discreetly) remove the pillow from around your shoulders.

The glint in the man’s eye told you he’d noticed and was once again amused by you.

You took a large gulp of the liquid in your glass and almost immediately started choking on it.

“FUCK!” you hacked out “What _*cough*_ the fuck is this?!”

A broad grin and shaking shoulders met your watery eyes as the man reached over to type something into his phone.

“I understand ASL, unless _*hng*_ you’re just some wacko who doesn’t like to talk.”

The man nodded before setting his phone back down.

_‘It’s Lagavulin. Not exactly something you try to shoot.’_

You took another - much smaller - sip and nodded.

“I’m sure under different circumstances it would be wonderful.”

_‘Different circumstances?’_

“Yeah, well it’s kind of hard to enjoy something so nice when you’re being accused of stealing and are more or less imprisoned.”

The man leaned back in his seat.

_‘I know you didn’t take my case… at least, not for any reason I’m concerned about.’_

You blinked.

“You do?”

He nodded succinctly before signing.

_‘If you knew who I was and were trying to take my case, you wouldn’t have drunk something I gave you so readily.’_

Again, you were feeling more than a little dumbfounded.

“So… I can go?”

A long arm motioned towards the white door.

_‘Anytime you like; do you have somewhere pressing you need to be?’_

You thought sadly about the uncomfortable chairs and family of six waiting for you back at your gate.

“… Not really.”

_‘Layover to LA?’_

“Yeah! You too?”

The man nodded, looking at you sympathetically.

_‘Guessing you’re not business class.’_

You laughed out loud at that.

“Ha! No way, who’s got the -… well I guess you do.”

He answered with a shrug.

_‘I’d like to buy you dinner, by way of an apology for all the hassle today.’_

A small smile crossed your lips as you thought about it.

On one hand, he’d kind of had you kidnapped and implied that if you’d known who he was you would have expected him to poison you or something… But on the other hand, this was definitely the most interesting trip you’d taken, and it was largely in part to do with this guy…

Eh what the hell.

“I’m Y/N.”

The man grinned widely, showing off his perfectly straight, white teeth.

_‘Call me Jesse.’_

* * *

The goth-pirate known as ‘Jesse’ sure made a mean cocktail.

You giggled and flopped onto the couch, letting your free arm run lightly over the soft leather as you kicked off your Ugg’s.

“Jesus, if I could travel like this maybe I wouldn’t hate flying so much.”

Your dinner partner leaned back in the too-small dining room chair and smirked at you, draining the last of his drink before pouring another from the pitcher of Old Fashions he’d mixed at your request.

He’d signed ‘ _All the good whiskey is gone anyway…’_ and then ruined all other Old Fashions for you forever.

Dinner had tasted like it was from a five-star restaurant. Hardly the Big Mac you’d been contemplating before being ‘abducted’. Your eyes had nearly popped out of your head as suit-clad waiters appeared through the suites door and offered you both menus before Jesse waved them off, texting that you’d both take ‘one of everything’.

Now you were full, a little tipsy, and having a pretty great time, all things considered.

“Do you always fly like this?”

Jesse shook his head.

_‘Sometimes I don’t have a layover.’_

You laughed “Smartass!” before slapping your hand over your mouth.

“Sorry. That was rude.”

He waved you off with a dismissive gesture.

_‘It’s OK. I am. But don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.’_

“Oh? And what reputation is that?” You smiled teasingly. God, were you really flirting? You didn’t even know him - not really.

Jesse tilted his head and looked at you - the grin he’d been sporting all night slowly dropping.

_‘Not a terribly pleasant or interesting one.’_

You sobered a bit as well.

“Well whatever you do out there…” you gestured vaguely at the door “… You’ve been a glorious smart-ass in here.”

The tall man grinned again, dropping his head in a mocking bow at your side-ways compliment.

Taking another sip of your drink you tried to think of another topic of conversation - something that would bring you back into nice neutral territory.

But then Jesse started to unbutton his shirt.

Not much - he clearly wasn’t trying to do a strip-tease for you - but the buttons he undid left just enough skin exposed for you to see the beginnings of a tattoo on his chest and the faint lines of his pectoral muscles skimming teasingly beneath his black button-down and your brain went completely blank.

“Umm…”

Very eloquent.

Jesse followed your gaze and gave you a look.

_‘A little stuffy in here, right?’_

“Sure…”

_‘Only six more hours till take-off if the god damn snow lets up…’_

“Hopefully…”

_‘Am I bothering you?’_

He undid another button.

“No!” you gasped out, tearing your eyes away from the new inches of skin he’d exposed - this time definitely teasing you on purpose.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

Jesse huffed in a way you’d come to learn was his way of laughing.

_‘Stare all you like - less annoying than pretending you’re not looking at the face, honestly.’_

Now you really wanted to ask what’d happened to his face; but thankfully you had enough of your faculties still in-tact to decide that probably wasn’t a good idea if you wanted him to keep working on those buttons.

And you really, really did.

“You’re right. It is pretty stuffy in here…”

I mean, it wasn’t entirely untrue - the thermostat was set to a balmy 73 degrees, and despite the snowstorm outside you were pretty toasty in this weird grand-theft suitcase fever dream you were experiencing.

And the fact that your stomach was doing very strange things when Jesse smirked and slowly pushed another button through its hole, revealing even more tattooed skin, could definitely be blamed on the dinner.

Too much rich food and your stomach was starting to do flip-flops.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the inches of muscular skin covered in intricate ink that was now bared nearly entirely to your gaze.

Fuck. You were in trouble.

You swallowed roughly as your eyes met Jesse’s. He looked like he was nearly ready to pounce on you - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to.

“You know… I wasn’t planning to hook up on this trip…”

Jesse’s eye narrowed as his lips twitched into a teasing grin.

_‘I saw the underwear you packed. I **HOPE** you weren’t planning on hooking up on your trip.’_

Your mouth dropped.

“Hey! I - “

But before you could respond Jesse had moved from his chair with an unanticipated speed; coming to kneel before your sprawl across the couch.

He was immediately in your space, mouth inches from yours as even on his knees he was much, much taller than you were sitting.

Your eyes caught his as his lips grazed lightly over yours.

“And I supposed you packed appropriate underwear for hooking up?”

Jesse responded by threading one large hand into your hair and pulling you forward into a rough kiss.

You moaned as he ran his tongue along the seam of your lips - which you opened immediately - only to do so again in frustration as he barely dipped inside before retreating, teasing you as your tongue chased after.

Frustrating man, frustrating kisser… that tracked.

Running your hands along his chest, you made short work of the couple of remaining buttons and pushed the soft fabric down his arms - surprising him, and yourself by pulling the cloth taught half-way down his arms, effectively trapping him as you surged forward and turned, bringing yourself over to straddle his hips.

You gasped as his pelvis thrust up, letting you feel just how much he was enjoying your little foreplay. He felt… proportional. And that was more than a bit intimidating.

“Fuck, Jesse…” you gasped out between kisses.

His lips curved against your skin, humming in agreement, already breathing heavily as he leaned closer to suck a hickey into the skin of your neck.

Crying out you ground your hips into his - enjoying the vibrations of his silent moan against you as he hardened even further in his slacks.

His teeth pulled at the collar of your shirt and you obliged by quickly removing it and tossing it across the room.

Your bra followed right after before your brain decided to come back online and force you to pull away, looking anywhere but at him - nervous now that your barriers were being removed.

Jesse took advantage of your distraction to twist free of your impromptu bonds, hands coming up to caress your face before running sensuously down your bare sides.

It was hard to be self-conscious when he was so obviously enthralled by you.

He leaned in for another kiss, which you eagerly returned before letting out an indignant squeal as one of his hands landed a sound slap against your still clothed ass.

Your eyes popped open as you felt him take ahold of you and hoist you both up to standing before setting you gently back against a cold, smooth surface.

Oh god, was that the window?!

He was going to fuck you in front of a window.

Your embarrassment level dialed up to fifty; but then Jesse dropped to his knees in front of you, and you decided your modesty and confidence issues could fuck right off for a while.

Unsure of where to put your hands, you settled them across his broad shoulder as he leaned in to run his face over the skin of your stomach, kissing you there before moving further down along the seam of your pants until he was pressed right up against your heat.

He inhaled deeply, causing you to shiver and moan. You could feel yourself getting wet and he hadn’t really done more than kiss you.

Your fingers worked frantically at your waistband, trying to push them down your hips so you could bring Jesse even closer to where you desperately wanted him.

Grinning up at you, Jesse’s broad hands joined yours, taking over as his thumbs pulled your leggings down, along with your underwear, leaving you fully nude in front of him.

You motioned to his own tented slacks.

“Fair’s fair…” you gasped.

Jesse stood, towering over you before guiding one of your hands to hid fly before pressing both long arms against the window - effectively caging you in with his body; but also giving you license to touch as you wanted.

And holy fuck did you want.

The hand not occupied with freeing his cock roamed unchecked across his skin, tracing each tattoo and feeling, to your surprise, many scars of various shapes and sizes made invisible to the eye by the intricate designs.

It felt like he was hiding a lifetime of pain under there. Some tattoos were bright and fresh; clearly done fairly recently… but some were fading, letting the rough, pale scars peek through.

Jesse watched you as you studied him.

He wondered what you’d think if he told you that every tattoo was designed to mask a wound - that each time he was cut or shot that as soon as he arrived home his team had both doctors and artists ready to patch him up and then ink over the evidence of the violence he perpetrated.

What better way to hide something than to cover it?

You skimmed your hand over his nipple, bringing him from his morbid thoughts with a gasp.

Fuck, that felt good. How long had it been since he’d done this? Not with a piggy; but with someone who he actually - surprisingly -enjoyed having around. Someone with no other ulterior motive than to enjoy a few hours of pleasure with him. God, it had been ages.

Finally finishing with his trousers, you pushed them down his slim hips until he was able to kick them off into a corner.

His cock curved enticingly into the skin of your stomach and you couldn’t help but to dip down and taste him, causing him to toss his head back in pleasure.

You moaned as you filled your mouth with as much of him as you could take, wrapping your hand around the rest and quickly finding a rhythm that made Jesse’s legs shake.

Leaning over you, he let the cold window press against his forehead - he wasn’t going to cum like some teenager from just a blow and a hand. Although he definitely could if his pride would allow it - the noises you were making as you suckled on his length were driving him insane.

Jesse’s hips were moving with you as you sucked and fondled his balls; only to let out a yelp as you were pulled away and turned to press against the chill glass.

Your nipples hardened immediately and you gasped at the sensation along with the visceral jolt of fear that someone would look up at just the right time and see your naked body pressed against the window.

You felt Jesse’s hand come down to cup your mound, sliding one, then two long fingers through your slick before pressing slowly inside.

Jesse turned your head to swallow up your cry of pleasure with his lips as he began a punishing pace.

You may have made his legs shake; but he was determined to make yours buckle.

Soon a third finger joined, prepping you for his cock and you couldn’t help but to hump his hand as the long digits inside of you pounded mercilessly against your g-spot.

“Please, Jesse, please I can’t, I - “

Your first orgasm of the night went through you like a shot. You screamed up to the ceiling as Jesse wrapped his other arm around your waist to keep you upright - barely giving you a second to recover before his cock was sliding into your hot depths.

“F-fuck!!”

You’d never felt so full in your life, and while your body was still contracting and spasming from your first orgasm, Jesse thrust into you an pulled you mercilessly into another.

“OH MY GOD!!”

Your feet left the ground as the man behind you grasped your knee and across your breasts, lifting you up to angle himself to better drive into you from behind.

A constant stream of babbling praise left your mouth as you wrapped an arm behind you to wrap around Jesse’s neck.

The sound of your wet pussy being filled to the point of overstimulation filled the small room, echoing through the space in a sinful symphony of breathing and moaning and filthy, wet noises.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself crest on a third orgasm, wailing and thrashing enough that Jesse was forced to take you both to your knees lest he drop you - immediately pushing your face down into the ground as his pace increased - his own end nearing as you sobbed out your pleasure - so much pleasure that you couldn’t tell if you were overstimulated beyond reason, or experiencing the world’s longest orgasm.

One, two, three rough thrusts and Jesse finally came into your exhausted cunt.

Shivering and gasping, one last slow orgasm ran through your body as you felt his cock spray it’s seed into you, filling you to bursting.

Jesse collapsed over you, chest heaving.

You couldn’t move. Every part of your body was jelly, and you were pretty sure you were going to die here. That was A-Okay with you.

“Holy shit…”

Jesse nodded tiredly against the back of your neck.

Holy shit indeed.

Slowly turning, you looked up at Jesse, who was still trying to regain his breath above you.

“Is it lame to say ‘thank you’?”

He grinned brightly down at you, pulling you to sit across his lap before signing;

_‘Only if it’s lame to say ‘thank you’ back.’_

You smiled tiredly.

“Well then I guess neither of us should say it, then.”

Jesse leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, which you barely returned - already half-asleep.

“Mmm... wake me up before the plane leaves…”

* * *

“Ma’am? Ma’am?”

You jolted up, ready to fight, before sinking back down into your seat with a groan.

“Oh fuck me…” you said, raising a hand and running it tiredly over your eyes.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you ma’am; but we need all passengers to secure their luggage before take-off.”

Peering through your fingers, you stared in confusion at the flight attendant.

Why was there a flight attendant here?

Where was here?

Oh shit! You were on a plane!

Now wide awake, you sat up quickly, grasping the flight attendant by the wrist.

“How did I get here? What flight is this?!”

Looking nonplussed, the attendant gently removed your hand.

“You’re on the 10:57 flight from Denver to LA. The snow finally cleared enough for the pilot to take off.”

You stared.

“This isn’t coach…”

“… No ma’am, this is first class.”

“… but I have a coach ticket…”

The attendant glanced down at the ticket stub stuck in the pocket outside your seat.

She looked confused.

“No, ma’am, it says first class here… I’m sorry if there’s been some misunderstanding… maybe the gentleman who brought you aboard can clear things up.”

Now it was your turn to look confused.

“The gentleman who…”

The attendant pointed over your shoulder.

“He’s right over there.”

Swiveling in your seat you stared down the aisle, meeting Jesse’s laughing brown eye from a few rows back.

“Now, like I said we are preparing for takeoff, so if you’d be so kind as to secure your carry-on we’ll be up in the air and serving your complimentary champagne and hors d’oeuvre’s in no time!”

Grumbling under your breath you stuffed your carry-on under your seat.

Well, you supposed there were worse ways to fly.


End file.
